


In the Shadow of the Wood

by CainAreon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Angst, Fantasy, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Sarcasm, Slavery, Traps, not my characters I don’t own them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-02-22 16:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CainAreon/pseuds/CainAreon
Summary: Lúcio’s mum always told him not to wander into the woods at the edge of their village, especially at night. There were ancient beings that lived in the shadows constantly watching humans. They lived to lure them in.What do you think he does?He walks straight into the forest on  a dare anyways.





	1. The Tree

**Author's Note:**

> First ever fic please be patient with me.

His mum had always told him not to wander into the woods, to be honest he wasn’t surprised that his situation wasn’t worse than it already was. What would they tell his mum when they found out he wandered where he wasn’t supposed to go? That her son, Lúcio Corrieia dos Santos, the golden boy of the village, went against her wishes and taunted the forest with a song and dance routine? All because Lena Oxton had dared him to? 

It’s not really his fault he wanted to prove her wrong just a bit right? Sure he was peace loving and kind, but it didn’t help that he had a stubborn competitive streak a mile wide. Especially when it was against Lena, the fastest hunter the small village had ever seen. They had been rivals since they were kids, but became friends when Hana Song, the best marble gamer there was told them to stop being petty and foolish when he was fourteen or so. The trio had since then been together, causing mischief that always got Lúcio in trouble with his mum since he was supposed to be a “good influence” for everyone old or young. 

His mum really had high expectations. 

He didn’t want to hear what she would tell him about his current predicament, caught in a snare. He was hanging twenty feet above the ground by one leg. He had been trying for hours to cut himself down with the small knife he always kept tucked in one boot. But it was no use. The rope was, strangely, uncuttable. He’d sawed at it without seeing it so much as fray.

So now he just hung, upside down, the blood rushing in his head, and when it got unbearable, he lifted himself up to the rope to cause it to go back down to his extremities. It was starting to get cold, night was falling. It was growing dark, the night animals starting to creep from their daytime sleeping places to hoot and caw, hunt and eat. It would soon be very very cold. It was not quite spring, clumps of snow lay unmelted along the game path he had been previously trodding, little blades of grass starting to show their spiky little heads. As if they were shy, or reluctant to leave their icy blankets. 

Lúcio shivered at the thought of snow. He was a summer bird who hated the cold dark months of us birth, that had nearly taken his life a few times too many. When he was and infant, he contracted an illness within the first month, it nearly killed him. His mother, afraid of losing her baby, had brought him up to be law abiding and cautious when he recovered. His small village was plagued by raids from a neighboring settlement not 50 miles across the plains. It was called Vishkar, and more than once its inhabitants had raided their small village winter. As a child, Lúcio had almost lost his life to a soldier of Vishkar. And as a teenager, he longed to stand up to them. Lena and Hana both encouraged his ideas of revolt against them. 

His first attempt had ended in disaster. At the age of twenty, he led his villagers to revolt, but they were outnumbered and underestimated their neighbors weaponry. They were devastated, and he was publicly flogged. He didn’t like to think of the roping whiteish scars that ran up and down his dark skinned back. Or the pain that came with them now and again. 

Another shiver ran up his spine, causing his body to tremble, the vibrations traveling up the rope and down to its anchor point below. His stomach let out a loud growl, and his head pounded near his temples. Throwing his body weight slightly forward, and then backwards, Lúcio rocked his torso upwards to grab onto his leg that had fallen asleep a long time ago. His fingers caught his leather breeches, and he folded himself in half looking desperately up through the thick canopy. The light was waning, the sky through the branches was no longer a blue or even visible for that matter. 

Lúcio looks around, the game path was narrow, tree roots stretching over it. A tree across the way had long sturdy branches only ten feet away. His mind began to think, and he cursed himself for not thinking of it earlier. Inhaling a deep breath, Lúcio let himself down gently, and mentally prepared himself for the kind of hurt his body would feel if he failed. 

He swung his arms back and then forth, throwing his chest into the motion as he did so. The rope started to hold momentum, the more he threw into the rocking back and forth. After about five minutes his fingers brushed against the twigs of the opposite tree. One more, he thought, and prepared himself on the back swing. When the pendulum like movement reached as far as it could back toward his original tree, he threw all his weight forward.

His leg that was caught protested, and the ligaments in his hips strained as he drifted towards the branch. His fingers fumbled through the the twigs, reaching a thinner branch off the main branch. It started to creak ominously on the verge of breaking. Lúcio’s heart stuttered as it felt the branch breaking, and he threw out his hand to grab the main branch at the last second. For a split second his heart stopped, and he closed his eyes expecting pain. 

But it never came. His hand had caught the branch. With a sigh, he reached out his other arm, and pulled himself toward the branch, and then up. His leg that was numb previously, started to regain feeling, pins and needles forming all the way down to his toes. Lúcio shivered and drew his cloak around him, his legs dangling off the edge of the branch as he tried to keep warm in the chill of late winter. 

He vaguely wondered when the person who had set the snare would be back. And as much as he didn’t want to, in the dark and the cold, Lúcio felt exhaustion take over his muscles and brain. He was tired. He needed rest before he tried the rest of his escape plan. 

His sleep was fitful, and filled with nightmares as he woke up what felt like every hour. By morning he was merely dozing, too cold and tired to do much else. It wasn’t until he heard voices talking somewhat loudly that he truly woke up.

He scrambled on his branch, quick to look over to the other side where the rope was looped over the branch of the other tree. The magic imbued rope hung limp in the air between both limbs. Lúcio squinted and looped the rope in his hand. He was going to try and get himself onto that tree to climb down. Pulling the rope as tight as he could until it stretched taught in his hands, Lúcio prepared himself for the swing across the canopy to the other tree. Thirty feet off the ground, the other tree seemed much farther away. The voices were getting closer, the conversation indistinguishable, but loud enough to cause some alarm.

Could he wait and see if they could help him get down? Yes, he could, but then again it was embarrassing that he was even in that predicament in the first place. Not to mention his mother told him to be wary of strangers you meet by the woods, and Lúcio was sure that applied to in the woods themselves. It seemed he’d learned his lesson from not obeying his mother. 

He took a deep breath, trying to ignore how high up he was, and then he jumped. 

The rope caught and swung him high enough to reach the branch that the rope was hung over. His heart was pounding, lungs panting for breath as he tried to shake the weightless feeling residing in his stomach. Lúcios shaking arms gripped the tree branch tightly, fingers threatening to give up their purchase on the rough brown bark. Shaking a stray hair of brown out of his eyes, he pulled himself up onto the branch and unhooked the rope from it’s hold. With a grunt, he started to seek a way down from the tree. Time was short. 

His climb down was taxing, and exhausting, but finally he made it to the bottom, to find that the rope was tied to a peg in the ground. Lúcio grumbled, and tugged at the rope to try and loosen the peg, but it wouldn’t move. It wouldn’t even budge an inch. Frustrated, and tired, he started walking away from the tree, in hopes that eventually the rope might come loose with more movement. 

His hands were scraped, splinters finding purchase in the soft palms of his hands and his boots were scuffed beyond repair. Dark grey cloak torn at the edges and his hair was no doubt an unruly mess, his neatly dreaded locks unfurling from their tight curls. He was sure me lost a few of the wooden beads that his mother had helped him place. They weren’t supposed to get unraveled day to day like that, but he supposed that being caught in a snare like that and being stuck in a tree all night didn’t count as normal day time activities. 

There came a point where the rope wouldn’t stretch any further, and Lúcio fell flat onto the ground as his ankle smarted painfully when it did. Glaring at the rope, he stood up cautiously and scuffed the dirt with one beat up boot. He hated being stuck in one place for too long. He was the free kind of spirit, who loved to dance and move to his own rhythm. It was obnoxious for him to be stuck, tied to a peg in the ground like some animal or prey.

Just as he was about to turn around and head back, the line went taught, and he was forcibly dragged by his foot through the underbrush. Lúcio dug his fingers into the dirt and moss, his fingers loosing ground with every second. His heart beat in terror, as he was pulled along. His life flashed before his eyes in jolting images.

His mother by the fire sewing the tears in his clothes. 

Lena, her face as just before she darts off to cause some mischief.

Hana’s sweet smile when she wins a round of marbles. 

The sight of his little house in the village.

The garden. 

The well. 

His bed. 

Then the dragging stopped. 

He uncovered his head just in time to glimpse a face. 

Pale with freckles and burning orange eyes, pointed ears and a shock of unruly blonde hair. 

A blunt pain, and then darkness.


	2. The Fire Imp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Firescrap and Pathboar find a smol human

It was morning in the mortal realm, that much he knew by the chirping of the birds and the light that filtered through the dark patches of the trees. He sat astride the large boar that was considered his inferior. However, they had known each other longer than anyone could guess. The rose from ashes to the place and title they currently held.

It had taken them a thousand years give or take a hundred. As well as a few lost things. He clenched both fists, the one made of brimstone and the flesh one into the tough bristly fur of his companion. No doubt leaving sooty scorch marks as he thought of how he lost his right arm and leg. Nevertheless, he was glad he was out of squalor and living well. He didn’t have to obey hardly anyone, or bend to their magic or will. 

He did, however, have to check the traps he set when they sprung, otherwise his catches often got away or eaten by bigger predators. Sometimes they were raided by other ancient creatures like himself. Out for his hard won title, his life’s work. 

“Pathboar, do you believe it’s likely the trap has been emptied again,” the last time they had come to the mortal realm their trap had been undone, he lost his catch only to find out later who it was that stole from him. Needless to say, Firescrap and Pathboar had found and killed the band of Winter fae. He sometimes wore their pelts as coats or boots around the Summer Court. Currently, he sported only a light tunic, it’s sleeves cut off and a short pair of breeches the right leg of the cloth rolled up to just above his knee. Mortal winters did not make him cold, and he could feel the rise of spring in the air around him.

“If you enchanted the rope with your glamour like you say you did, your catch should not be gone until you wish to release it,” the deep voice of the boar rumbled from beneath him. After a few minutes of silence the boar cocked his head to the side to regard him with one big blue eye, “You placed the enchantment on it, did you not?” 

“Yes, yes, I swear on my remainin limbs I placed the damn enchantment,” the scrawny looking fae with bright orange eyes replied to his companion. Well, they wettest really companions, it was more like Firescrap paid Pathboar fifty percent of his share from hunts to guard him. There were rumors that while out in the mortal realm the snappish fire imp had found an amulet that protected fae from iron poisoning. But rumors are just that... rumors. 

Firescrap had been ambushed so many times by fae who wanted what he had, that he made a bargain with Pathboar. If the brutish boar warrior would protect him from the other fae trying to kill him for his amulet he would share its powers with the larger fae. It seemed a fair bargain, they had even made an unbreakable vow on their true names.

Over time, their bargain had created an unbreakable bond, they were like blood or kin rather than just a mishmash of two fae under the service of a faerie court. Firescrap wanted to leave the Summer Court, at some point, but he didn’t know when that would be. Or what century it might happen in. Bad things happened when you left the Queen’s service. She didn’t outright hunt you down, but you were banished, and that bounty on your head was enough to keep a fae running away from their old court for a long time. Word got around in the fae realm. Like wildfire. 

Firescrap drew quiet for a few moments, which was rather unusual given that the fae liked to talk more than he liked to eat. Then again, whenever they got close to his traps he always focused and fell quiet. To be honest, it made him more cold and like the ancient fae he was. Emotions were weakness, when he became cold and silent, he became more like every other fae mysterious and dangerous. 

The birds in the dark tree branches quieted at their approach, aware of the ominous predators they were. As if they could sense death was on the horizon. 

Firescrap slid from Pathboars back just as they neared he treat by which his trap was supposed to be swinging with its prey locked in its grasp. Instead, there was nothing in the air. For a moment, the fire imp halted and stared at the tree. Then he turned to face Pathboar, with a confused expression, one bushed blonde eyebrow raised in question.

“Are ya sure we left it here? Isn’t it a little further off?” 

Pathboar huffed a great long sound before slowly changing back to his secondary form, the two-legged manifestation of himself. He felt far more vulnerable that way than he did in his boar form but it couldn’t be helped. He needed to help Firescrap find the prey.

Again. 

Pathboars two-legged form had pale skin, and stood very tall, taller than lanky little Firescrap, sporting a round belly and enormous tree-trunk-like limbs that ended in larger extremities. His face was covered in sparse stubble in various shades of light grey to white. His hair was a white color as well, pulled back into a ponytail. The only trace of his boar nature, were the six inch tusks protruding from his lower jaw behind his bottom lip. His eyes were a shocking ice blue. It befit more of a Winter fae than a Summer one, however he knew he was a Summer fae though and through. 

He lumbered over to Firescrap, and settled a large hand on his shoulder, the brimstone didn’t burn his hand as he pat his shoulder reassuringly, “This is the right one.” 

Then he walked toward the peg in the ground where the rope was pulled taught in a line past the creek and out into the woods. It seemed the prey they had caught was either smart enough to get out of the tree or very very lucky. Either way, it was still on the line like a hooked fish. Grasping the old woven rope in his large hands, Pathboar gave it a quick and sharp yank. Like in fishing, when you have a quick yank to stun the fish, he started to drag their catch in. He wondered what it would look like, how much they could get for its hide. 

With a deep grunting sigh he returned his mind to his work while Firescrap fiddled with another one of his schematics. He was trying to perfect the system in which they caught their prey, and it seemed that he was trying to figure out how to keep it in the tree with an enchantment or one of his metalworks. Although they did much with metal, faeries never did anything with iron. It was the one thing that could kill them, first it made you sick, horribly so, and if that didn’t kill you, the madness that followed did. 

Finally, the prey attached to the rope burst out of the bushes was dragged over the creek and Pathboar tossed the rope to the ground not caring where it lay. Firescrap’s attention was drawn to their quarry. It was smaller than he thought it would be, the human male was laying on his stomach spitting dirt from his mouth. 

Firescrap walked around from behind Pathboar to get a better look at the human. He’s interesting, thought Firescrap, his skin was a dark shade of brown like the earth beneath his feet, his hair even darker than that until it tapered into a shade resembling a cross between blonde and brown. The hair itself was coiled tight into what looked like little ropes, humans had strange tastes, and while some were unfurling, the others were held in place by wooden beads in a light shade. Perhaps they were made of birch? The humans ripped grey cloak had ridden up, showing a pair of scuffed and worn brown leather boots with black trousers tucked into their edges. A scratchy looking greenish tunic was tucked into the waistband of the black trousers. It was a nice change of color, Firescrap thought to himself. So far the human was far more interesting than any other human he’d met. 

The fact that he had gotten down from the tree itself was interesting. Firescrap didn’t know what it was that was stirring in his chest, it was a curious thing. Warm, and tingly, and it made his heart proud faster in his chest. The human raised his head, and among all the dirt and the scrapes and the fallen leaves that had gotten stuck to his face, Firescrap noticed one thing. 

His eyes were hazel.

The colors of growing things and the soil, in a blend so perfect, the ancient fire imp thought he might drown in their gaze. They reminded him of the times when he was young and would go adventuring past the courts boundaries, fishing in deep pools and laying in the grass beneath the trees in the sun. The color of ancient trees, the color of his first horse. 

The male was about to speak when Pahtboar knocked him out, releasing Firescrap from his daze that the humans eyes had brought. Then he used one massive hand to turn the human over to see what was so spellbinding about it, but there was nothing that stuck him as captivating. Sure it had nice skin, the pelt would fetch a fine price from the skinwalkers, the meat and fat they could get a good price from the mountain trolls in the west. And if it’s bones were good, they would be able to barter some valuables from the redcaps in the Winter Court. Though they weren’t supposed to deal with the Winter Court, being summer fae, redcaps were capable of finding lots of neat treasures, so bribing them with bones was their best bet. 

But the human wasn’t anything special, and certainly wasn’t as beautiful as any fae female or male they’d encountered so far. Firescrap had a way of talking himself into other faeries beds, but t often brought them trouble. Pathboar didn’t know what was so special about the human then. 

Besides, it’s not like he cared about humans, they hunted them for Ancients sake. Pathboar reached a meaty hand down to crush the windpipe to the humans throat, but before he could close the connection Firescraps brimstone hand shot out and grabbed his arm. The bigger fae looked at Firescrap, whose face was fierce but his eyes were afraid and frantic the pupils constricted to tiny dots in his orange irises. 

“Don’t kill him,” he requested softly, and resisted against Pathboar when the giant tried again to do what they had always done. Quick and painless, the catch would never feel a thing; didn’t Firescrap want to sell the thing? Isn’t that what they had always done?  
Wrenching his arm from the fire imp’s grasp, Pathboar sighed and rubbed at his tired face. He voiced only one question, “Why?” Firescrap at first, couldn’t answer him. He didn’t know why he wanted that one human to live. He didn’t even know why he stuck his hand out to stop Pathboar in the first place. 

But something about the humans eyes was important, something about the way he was constructed and the way he could apparently think his way out of problems. There was something in that human that Firescrap had never encountered before. 

And the minute it dawned on him, he whispered softly to himself, “Intelligence.” He was lost in thought, his brimstone hand leaving soot on his face as he pressed his index knuckle to his lips. The human was smart, that had to count for something, and certainly his skin was exotic. If they could train him to be a servant, or maybe obey as a pet, then they wouldn’t need to kill him.

Pathboar didn’t get it, though he heard Firescrap loud and clear he still asked, “What?” 

Firescrap finally looked up, determination causing his eyes to glow like the embers when fires were banked for the night, “We can’t kill him. He’s too intelligent for that, and his skin is exotic. We’d make more profit sellin him as a pet than doin what we normally do. He requires a bit of trainin, but I don’t think it will take all that long. I reckon he’s a fast learner.”

The giant stood still, thinking for a moment, grumbling to himself every few seconds. To Pathboar, it was another mouth to feed and another body to protect. He didn’t need the extra workload that it would take to keep the human alive until payment was made. It was easier to just chop it into bits and be done with it, and they were paid well enough for doing that anyways. There was no need for Firescraps nonsense. 

Pathboar advanced his hand towards the humans neck again, “It’s too much extra work. We get paid well enough with what we do.” There was a sound of a weapon being drawn, a blade scraping against its sheath, and suddenly a steel blade was being pressed against his thick wrist. The blade burned Pahtboar’s skin slightly, thanks to the iron that Firescrap molded into the blade. But his hide was thick, it could withstand a few minutes of that blade before it really started to damage his flesh.

The giant looked down to regard Firescraps snarl, teeth bared and a blaze of anger in his eyes, “Another inch and I’ll cut it off.” 

Pathboar started to get angry, nobody, not even Firescrap, threatened the Great Beast of Nalnor. A snort escaped his nostrils, the hot air steaming in the cold morning light. If they fought, it would not have ended well for either of them. Clenching his left fist, he reached for his fish hook with his right hand, large fingers curling around it’s hilt. 

“‘Scrap, move,” he commanded, knowing that if he remembered the imps true name he could have rendered the other fae his slave. Out of respect, he had quickly forgotten, and yet Firescrap never hesitated to remember Pathboars true name when he needed to use it. The mere mention of the first part of his true name was binding enough. And Firescrap used it in instances such as this, where insubordination was imminent. 

Firescrap hated to use his true name, but sometimes it had to be done. Sometimes when you couldn’t trust someone, you needed to put them in their place before they declared mutiny. And so even though he was irontouched, the fire imp had never forgotten Pathboar’s true name. Never. 

With a roar, Pathboar removed his fish hook from his belt and swung it at Firescrap’s head. The Imp ducked, and lunged with his dagger at the giant, but it never hit anything. He didn’t want to hurt the giant who had become like blood to him. He just wanted to make him see that the human was worth more alive, rather than dead. 

And so when the giant reached back to swing again, Firescrap shouted, “MAKO, STOP!”

Pathboar came to a complete standstill, unbalanced and angry, but stopped. There was a reason why many fae were very careful who they shared their true names with. Knowing a true name meant you could control them, bend the other to your will. It was dangerous. 

“We should be doing this as we always have,” Pathboar growled, and snarled at the fire imp. 

Firescrap shook his head back and forth gently, trying desperately not to lose his temper, “No. We are not goin to tear him into itty bitty pieces.” 

“But-”

“ENOUGH! I gave you an order, Mako,” the giant flinched at his true name, “swear on your name that he,” the imp pointed at the human, “will be unspoiled until he paid for as a pet and nothing else.” 

Pathboar could do nothing except agree, he was that powerless against Firescrap. With a sullen nod, the giant agreed and then was released from the magic of his true name. Rather than say anything else, the giant turned back to his boar form, ready to go back to their realm. He’d rather just get everything over and done with at that point. 

Firescrap stooped to inspect the human once more. He trailed his flesh hand over his skin, marveling at the sight of the contrasting tones his pale fingers made against the humans cheek. He gently swiped a thumb over the arch of the humans cheek before withdrawing from his face. Digging his arms underneath the human, Firescrap hoisted him off the ground, the weight of his cargo light to his ancient strength. 

He placed the human in front of him on Pathboar’s back, and then hopped up to ride his companion back to their realm. As they walked through the forest, the fire imp couldn’t help but wonder what kind of adventure it would be to train the human as a pet. And what kind of conversations they could have. 

To be honest, he’d never felt more excited in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn mako, way to be a bloodthirsty beast.


	3. The Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lúcio wakes in captivity, starving, cold and very very uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, college is a bitch and so is writers block.

Lúcio awoke when his body was aching from cold and from being knocked out. His head was spinning slightly, dehydration causing the blood to pound through his skull like some ornery cow on a rampage. All four of his limbs, from what he could tell in the darkness of his mind, were sore but intact and he could move his fingers and toes so they weren’t entirely dead. It seemed he was alive, but what for? 

All he could remember was being dragged, and then knocked out. There was something before that, something important. Something orange. 

Strange. 

He shivered as a cold breeze washed over his skin, humid and biting, unlike the chill that the woods outside his village were known for. He felt the wind reaching past his cloak deep into his skin, making his teeth chatter. Lúcio would surely freeze to death if he did not get himself up and moving in the next few minutes. The human opened his eyes, in the darkness he barely saw anything, except the changing of light from a campfire behind him on the bark of a tree. There was dirt and leaf mold beneath his head, his leg placed against a mossy tree root. 

Lúcio pushed himself up slowly, unsure of where he was and what he was doing there, as he turned to face the light of the fire and figure out more information he was met with a pair of burning orange eyes like before. Lúcio flinched and nearly screamed at the closeness of the person? Creature? 

Thing? It was a thing. That was alive, and probably had a sentient mind. But Lúcio really didn’t know what to call it other than a thing. It was pale, the fire casting darker grey shadows over its skin and light colored hair, but for some reason it’s eyes burned orange like flame. It had a regular left arm, but it’s right ended at the elbow, where a earthy looking flaming fake arm took up a normal arms space. It was like the thing had stuck it’s arm into a fire, burned it to a blackened crisp, and then pulled it out only to find that the fire continued to burn inside the dead arm. In the cracks of it shone the glowing, orange, spider-webbing of internal flames. It was unearthly, unlike anything Lúcio had ever seen. It was wearing a very light tunic, and a pair of breeches that were rolled up to his knees. 

The thing leaned closer to inspect Lúcio, and it caused the human to pull his head back, more towards the tree than towards the thing. The thing pursued until Lúcio squeaked out, “Don’t come any closer,” his hand had been slowly reaching into his boot for his knife, the tiny little thing. 

The thing moved an inch and immediately found a blade pressed against its throat. An iron blade that stung and bit at the pale skin of its neck, Lúcio’s knife to be exact. However the human was unprepared for the angered snarl and the blow that knocked the blade out of his hands and somewhere far into the bushes beyond his reach with a dull thud, and then a tink. Instead the human found himself at the edge of a dagger, sharpened and honed to perfection, one wrong swallow and he’d be choking on his own blood. 

“W-What do you want,” Lúcio stammered, more afraid now that his life was literally balanced on the point of a dagger.

“Non intelligetis, ego autem non nocere,” the thing spoke gruffly in a language that Lúcio did not understand. If his confused expression was anything to go by, the thing removed its blade from the humans neck slowly. 

“Non intelligetis,” it murmured to itself before realizing its own folly. It smacked itself in the head with its flesh hand, “You are understandin’ common speak, yes?”

Lúcio nodded, his eyes shying away from the unwavering stare of the thing, but he dared to ask another question, “Who are you? Where are we? What do you want with me?”

“Firescrap, west of Nalnor’s southern border, and you are a pet, so to speak,” Firescrap, a ‘he’ Lúcio presumed, muttered to himself, “At least you will be soon.” 

“I’m a human, not a pet,” Lúcio spoke softly, hoping that Firescrap wouldn’t hear his comment. Unfortunately for him, fae had great hearing, it was almost unnerving how good it was. Firescrap’s lip curled up, his eyes glowing brighter and more angry, with a tint of red rather than orange as he confronted Lúcio with a low and steady growl.

“You’re a pet alright! You’re the one who wandered into my trap,” Firescrap’s voice rose in volume as he stood up to tower over Lúcio, using his height to intimidate the much smaller human as he fought to convince the man that he was a pet, no longer free. A creature they would train and then sell. To him, the fact that he spared Lúcio’s life also meant that Lúcio owed him a debt, which was normal for fae. Fae, when sticking their necks out for others, even saving or sparing the other from a killing blow meant a legal and binding contract. Because Firescrap chose to spare the human, it meant that Lúcio belonged to him. 

He could do whatever he pleased with the human and Lúcio would have to deal with it, that is what he knew. 

But for some reason the human wouldn’t take the conversation sitting down, and stood up too, though he leaned heavily on his right foot as he pointed an accusing finger in Firescrap’s face, “That was your trap!? Who leaves a trap out in the middle of a game trail without warning the people nearby!? You’re inconsiderate, and recklessly endangered everyone with your stupid trap!”

Firescrap was a fire imp, he was hotheaded, it was natural that he finally roared, “I PUT IT THERE BECAUSE YOU ARE THE PREY” silencing all surrounding night noises except the fire. Lúcio’s mouth hung open in shock, not the comical one you’d see in the drawings of a child, more the type where he should have something more to say but didn’t. Instead he tugged the edges of his cloak tighter around himself, and looked away from Firescrap’s burning orange gaze.

“Look at me,” Firescrap quitely demanded, which Lúcio ignored until he grew angry with the human and grabbed him by the arm forcefully, “Look at me when I speak to you,” Firescrap snarled, and then continued in a quiet harsh tone, “I could have slit your throat, but I didn’t. I could have skinned you and sold your hide to a skinwalker, but I didn’t,” Lúcio finally met Firescrap’s gaze, a cold emotion turning the warm brown of his irises to the dead bark of a dying tree, “You will be grateful I spared your life. You owe me a life debt; I stuck my neck out for you, t’keep you alive. If I say you’re a pet, you’re a pet. If I tell you t’act like a dog, you say?”

“Woof,” Lúcio completed Firescrap’s sentence begrudgingly and with a sullen tone as he looked away and towards the ground. The human was angry, and while intimidated by the raw strength and speed of Firescrap, he was still very stubborn for a human. He decided that while he was going to play along with Firescrap’s rules, he would do everything in his power to get away as soon as possible. Lúcio believed in freedom, not in captivity. It was why he took those lashes in the first place, to show his people the strength of one man is enough to move boulders, and the strength of many would cause avalanches of change. 

Firescrap seemed satisfied with Lúcio’s answer, and released the human with a slight shove, “Good, now come and eat somethin’ before you go back to sleep.” His tone was less angry, still just as gruff, but it sounded kinder than it had been a few moments before. To be honest, the way Firescrap could go from emotionless to cold and angry and then back to cold was interesting, if not frightening to Lúcio.

But he was determined not to let his slight fear get to him, and definitely he wouldn’t show that creature that he was any kind of scared. Lúcio in fact seemed even more determined to get himself out of the predicament the fate had landed him in. First a trap and then this crazy lunatic with pointed ears telling him he had to be a slave to someone else, a plaything a… pet. It was downright insulting to his pride as a man, much less a person of intellect and bravery. 

Lúcio set those thoughts aside as he climbed over the log set in front of the campfire, and as Firescrap handed him something that looked a lot like a rabbit leg from a set of sticks standing up around the fire to roast. Sniffing the meat curiously, Lúcio wondered how well it was cooked, rabbits could give you rabbit fever if you didn’t cook them well enough. Not to mention they were mostly tough and gamey half the time. Or had little meat on them. His thoughts were interrupted by the loud growling of his stomach, the vibrations of which Lúcio could feel crawling up his spine. Then again when was the last time he ate something? He didn’t even know how long he’d been out. 

Right as he was about to take a bite, a loud snarl ripped the campsite, and a series of grunts and sucking noises also followed. What the hell? Lúcio looked over just in time to see Firescrap wolfing down a whole leg, ripping off big pieces of meat with his teeth and swallowing them whole. He wasn’t even bothering to chew his food properly. Lúcio stared in a mixture of awe and disgust as the creature proceeded to then lick his fingers and even follow a path of grease clear down to his elbow with a long pink tongue bathed orange in the firelight. If that wasn’t enough to deter appetite a few seconds longer, Lúcio didn’t know what was. 

“What are you,” Lúcio half-whispered to himself, his food forgotten momentarily as he took the time to study the strange behavioral patterns of Firescrap. 

“Oi’ didn’t your mum tell you it was rude to stare at people,” Lúcio looked down at his lap, the stick laying in his hands as he picked at the meat on it, “As for your inquiry, I’m a fire imp. A fae creature, I believe humans call us.” 

At this new information Lúcio went stock still. It was one thing to be in a life debt to a human being, seeing as eventually that human would die off. It was another to be in a life debt to a fae, they were immortal. They never died unless slain in battle, they never aged and they never required the same things humans did to live. He’d heard stories, legends of the humans that had lost their freedom to a life debt of a fae, some tortured for centuries, others were taken to the fae world and soon forgot themselves. Something about their realm drove human beings mad over extended periods of time. It’s possible that the concept of time was only something mortals knew of, and that the fae realm was unchanged by time and therefore the time did not flow like it did in the human realm. It’s possible that the lack of structure like time drove humans mad. 

Legends warned that humans were not supposed to eat things in the fae world, that something would go wrong. Somethings has histories of turning people into ravenous beasts or worse rendered incapable of eating anything at all. Especially if the food was offered by a fae, it was possible they had poisoned it as a way to find amusement. Let’s just say that most legends and stories with fae in it never ended well for humans. 

Lúcio looked back down at his rabbit, then back up to see Firescrap was looking right at him. The fae didn’t understand why the, obviously starving, human wasn’t eating the food he’d given him. Scratching at his patchy blonde hair, the fire imp contemplated the reasons why the human wasn’t eating, the first being that the human did not like the meal. Or did not want it.

“Are you gonna eat that,” Firescrap asked and pointed with a brimstone finger at the perfectly good rabbit haunch resting in the humans grip. When Lúcio didn’t twill his food to the imp, the immortal realized something he’d forgotten a long time ago momentarily. It’d been a while since the imp had actively observed human behavior or listened to human legends about faeries. 

“For Ancient sakes,” Firescrap suddenly groaned, rubbing his forehead and eyes with his right hand, leaving a heavy layer of soot behind. Had the situation be anything other than what it was, Lúcio might’ve laughed, “I intend to make a profit off of ya’, why would I have any reason to feed ya’ somethin’ that’ll make ya’ sick or any kind of ill?” 

Lúcio looked at the immortal suspiciously for a few moments, wondering if he was really telling the truth. After a while, it seemed that he human made up his mind that Firescrap was not lying in this instance. Slowly, and silently, the human took his first bite of meat. Unsurprisingly, at the first taste of food, his appetite resurfaced. He would have scarfed it down much like Firescrap, but Lúcio knew that if he did it would look both undignified and he could get a stomach ache. He did know that it had been too long since he last ate. 

To be honest he didn’t even know what day it was, and had to turn to the only being that would know. Firescrap was playing with a bit of flames, watching it dance along his fingertips like a glowing insect of destruction, “How long was I knocked out for?” 

“Only one sunrise and one sun fall, I don’t know what a mortal would call it,” Firescrap mused, watching the flames lick eagerly at his fingertips. Lúcio found the behavior peculiar as a human, but knowing that Firescrap was a fire imp made that knowledge a little more normal he supposed. Most fae were named after features of their naturally ascribed talents, things they had from the beginning. Imps were mischievous and liked to play tricks on humans according to common folklore. The imp in front of him said he was a fire imp meaning that he had an affinity for fire magic. Fire wouldn’t hurt him in this sense, like it would frail humans, if anything Lúcio guessed that Firescrap would have loved to do nothing more than sit in a fire all day long. 

“A day,” Lúcio mumbled to Firescrap, incredibly aware of how much his mother must have been worrying considering that he’d been missing for two days in a row. He was not that kind of man. He never went on adventures after dark, was always back home to help with the chores by sundown and never strayed from those times. However it seems fate was against him that day in the forest, leading to his capture and future as a fae creatures pet. 

A branch snapped in the distance, causing Lúcio to jump, and turn his head toward the noise behind him straining his ears for any other noises that could alert him of danger. All he heard was the crackling of the fire, and the sound of crickets and night fauna occasionally peeping and hooting in be night air. As if Firescrap could tell what Lúcio was thinking, he said, “Just Pathboar, he left earlier to keep watch, I reckon it’s my turn.”

“Who is Pathboar,” Lúcio turned back to Firescrap, curious and slightly worried about what else this crazy imp had brought with him into the human forest other than that trap. Firescrap stood up, stretching out to a very tall height, about two heads taller than Lúcio himself, and scratched at an itch somewhere on his back. 

Just as the blonde fae was going to reply, a deep growling rumble answered the human, “None of your business,” Lúcio looked up to stare into the piercingly cold blue eyes of a behemoth of a creature. He was rounded, and large with massive limbs and a spherical face. Large tusks sprouted from his lower jaw, white like his hair and the stubble decorating his face. The giant’s pointed ears stuck out from either side of his head but were dwarfed in size compared to his face. He wore no tunic, only a pair of ragged breeches and a thick chain belt as well as a pair of shoulder pieces made of the rib cages and mixed bones of smaller animals. From the chain hung a fishhook looking weapon, large and sharp from what Lúcio could see. 

The giant crossed over the the fire, Lúcio tracking his every move, noticing the row of bristles that stood up along his spine, also white. They disappeared into the back of the fae’s pants. Whatever he was, Lúcio had no intent to mess with him. Instead he just sat there with his empty stick and stayed very very still. He didn’t need to draw any further attention to himself than necessary. Firescrap shuffles off into the bushes in the direction that Pathboar had come in from. Leaving the human utterly alone with the giant fae. 

They sat in silence, the crackling fire separating them and splitting the silence with each snap of wood under flame. Lúcio didn’t know what he was supposed to do, was he supposed to go back to sleep? Or was he supposed to sit there until the fae dismissed him? How cruel was the giant? Was he like Firescrap, his flaming temper and quick responses? Or was he different? 

“Stop staring,” the giant grumbled out, and Lúcio almost didn’t catch it. He didn’t particularly understand until a few seconds later when he realized for a fact that he had been staring at the giant fae for the past couple of minutes. Awkwardly, and no doubt with a good measure of apprehension. Lúcio shifted his gaze to the fire. 

Lúcio started to ask a question,“Where are we go-”

“None of your concern. Sit quietly and don’t speak unless you are spoken to. Address me and Firescrap as ‘sir,’ and don’t poke your nose where you don’t belong,” Pathboar rumbled in his deep baritone, his syllables sounding painful and raspy near the end where he was interrupted by a hacking cough, he spat something on the ground and then continued, “Always be mindful of your place. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Lúcio quietly spoke, so as not to disturb the giant any further. Perhaps he could ask Firescrap later about why Pathboar saw it fit to impose rules that Lúcio didn’t feel should apply to his own situation. Considering that Firescrap never told him to call the fire imp “sir,” and openly answered his questions as their previous conversation had shown. 

The giant fae sighed, and he sounded tired, and ancient the way his wheezing breath rattled out of his body in a long stream of audible air. Pathboar didn’t seem much like the conversational type unless it was important, he used communication as a tool, not as a thing to enjoy, which was kind of odd for Lúcio. The human came from a place where talk was all the people really had, gossip, rumors and stories were the pastimes of his people and everyone did it. Everyone. Even the smallest children knew how to amuse each other with little made up tales about far off adventures. 

“Go to bed. Tomorrow is a long walk,” Pathboar grunted at Lúcio, and the human didn’t need to be told twice to move off the log and back to the tree roots where he woke up in this section of the forest. Among the moss and the hard earth underneath his feet, he arranged his ragged cloak around himself and settled in for another cold night somewhat sheltered from the wind. 

As he drifted to sleep, his mind immediately fell into thinking about his mother, Lena and Hana. Hana was likely to be staying up all night, no one to tell her that her bad dreams were fake. Or waiting for me to come home. Lúcio wondered if his mother left the lantern burning in the windowsill to guide him home again. If she spent her morning doing all the chores of the house by herself for the time he’d been back. His heart ached with longing at the thought never seeing his mother again. He didn’t know how long it would take for him to escape his odd captors. How long it would take for him to get back to her. 

For the first time in his life, the unknown began to scare him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't give up little man! You can take two immortal fae... who just so happen to be ancient... and magically imbued with power... who also have nice faces....
> 
> yeaaah... good luck you're kinda screwed. *pat pat*


	4. The Walk Pt. 1: Sprites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lúcio is walking in the woods behind the fae and makes a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, college has been hectic, here is your chapter. Thank you for being patient.

They were walking, a magic rope bound to Lúcio’s left wrist the other end of it secured to Firescrap’s waist. The imp was sitting astride Pathboar, who had changed into a giant boar, his shoulders as tall as Firescraps head. They'd been waking for a while, and in that time the woods had gone from welcoming to slightly ominous and malevolent. Lúcio was well aware that the trees were not like there ones in the woods outside his home, but the transition itself was slightly unnoticeable. Fuzzy, even in his memories. He didn't really remember how long ago they had crossed the border between realms. All he knew is that he wasn't in the human realm anymore. 

Lúcio was tired, his sleep among the roots of his last resting place before that dreadfully long march, had left him sore in places he never knew a person could be sore. And severely deprived of the mind restorative powers of a good night's sleep, he didn't feel much energy to even think about escaping. 

However, the towing rope wrapped around his wrist was long enough for him to walk a fair distance behind the two fae. Honestly the further he was from the giant boar, the safer he felt even in the dim malevolence of the woods. Lúcio wondered if he was just unlucky, or if there was some god above that hated him so much to cause him to be caught by those immortal creatures ahead of him. Firescrap chattered inanely almost the whole way since they started walking up until the point that Lúcio felt his attention being drawn from the two fae in front of him to a little ball blue of light floating next to a very droopy flower. Curious, he thought, he'd never seen a ball of light such as that in his human realm. 

As Lúcio drew closer to it, he realized it was a very tiny humanoid that glowed with magic power emanating from its wings. Tiny gossamer wings, shaped like that of a butterfly, but structurally based and materially more like the wings of a dragonfly. As he passed the tiny humanoid turned to look at him, and when he turned his head, he heard a bird-like trill and the flutter of tiny wings. Then it was right in front of his face, hovering backward as it studied Lúcio. Big blue-black pupils framed by dark navy colored lashes gazed at the human as it tilted its head to the side, it's blue hair following the gravity of the earth with it. It chirped again, eyes and eyebrows furrowing in question, as Lúcio studied it. 

“Hello,” he whispered quietly, bringing his hand up to rest just under the tiny humanoid feet. It took his invitation as a seat, and sat delicately on his palm, holding onto his thumb with one arm. Coincidentally it was the same arm that had the rope on it. The tiny creature soon noticed his rope as well and pointed at it with one hand before then pointing at Lúcio with a confused noise. 

He chuckled and with a light scratch of his fingers along his scalp he admitted, “Ridiculous right? I’m a pet apparently, though to be honest I am trying to escape. Just don't have a plan yet.” 

It nodded as if it could understand him, and Lúcio smiled at it gently. Maybe this trip wouldn't be so bad, maybe his little creature friend could make him feel less lonely. The tiny creature smiled with its lips closed before it pointed to the rope and mimicked a sawing motion. Lúcio couldn't believe his luck, this tiny being was offering its aid to him, which was surprising given his experience with fae. Then again, his experience counted only the two he'd just met not many days ago. Maybe not all fae were like Firescrap and Pathboar, maybe they were better and nicer. Lúcio couldn't help the smile and the excitement that filled his chest with hope.

“Are you saying,” he looked up from the tiny creature to check that the other two fae hadn't heard him, “that you can free me?” The tiny humanoid nodded once more and immediately fluttered up to lead Lúcio somewhere, a little off the path as the rope was long enough that it dragged on the ground behind the large boar. He could walk into the woods for a bit after his tiny friend and still not have his absence be noticed.

Low growing bushes and scrubby plants brushed against his trousers as he wandered after the little ball of light that flit between branches and disappeared almost as fast as Lúcio could catch up to it. When he reached the near end of his tether, he called out the little creature, “Hey, I can’t go any further, my rope isn’t that long.” 

The creature turned around, made a halting motion with its hands and a sharp definitive squeak, and then zipped off in the opposite direction. Strange, Lúcio thought. Fae were interesting creatures that didn’t seem to talk much “common speak,” as Firescrap had called it. Maybe Firescrap and Pathboar were exceptions to the general fae, who didn’t seem to speak much common tongue? The rope grew ever taught, and soon the creature had returned, with other little glowing creatures. 

Similar in size and form they were, but differing in colors, greens, oranges, reds, yellows, like flowers in a meadow under the most lovely of moonlights. Lúcio was so caught up in his inquisitive curiosity that he was startled by the momentous tug on his tether that pulled him off balance. It sent him sprawling into the dirt, and when he looked up the creatures were all hovering, each one of them was smiling. 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, the little flittery beings were smiling with their teeth. It was then and only then he could see how sharp they were. 

“Wait, I thought you were going to set me free,” he was confused, the creature was supposed to keep its word, wasn’t it? Well, it never really said anything, but still shouldn’t there be a code of honor or something? 

The blue one flew closer to him, pointed at its teeth, then at Lúcio and then mimicked a chewing motion against its own arm followed by a very toothy grin. In its black eyes, Lúcio saw the fake kindness fade away, replaced with malice and what looked like hunger. 

They were going to set him free alright but at a price.

Lúcio berated himself, he should have known. 

Fae only do something when they have something to gain. 

These little creatures were gaining a meal out of him. 

With a sharp yell, Lúcio batted the little blue one away from him, watching how it easily sailed into the rough bark of a nearby tree. He got to his feet as quickly as possible, but it was only a matter of time before the blue one recovered and in a drawn-out squeal sent the others zooming after the human without a second's hesitation.

Lúcio ran through the trees hoping that his longer legs would outpace their hummingbird speed wings, but he knew as the first tiny mouth of needle-sharp teeth pricked his leg that they were fast enough to pursue and catch him. The bite at first stings like any other insect, but soon it felt firey and angry and filled with so much pain that he was limping even as he attempted to shake the little ball of red light off. His left calf was burning now, the sensation of pain grew more intense with every stumbling step he made through the undergrowth after the rope that he gathered in his hands. 

Another bite to his right shoulder joined the one on his calf in singing its song of pain, spreading its flames down his arm and into the very tips of his fingers. His brain started to grow sluggish, his steps slowing even as he tried to push himself as hard as he could. Shrill trilling laughter followed behind him, the little creatures grew giddy at the sight of their prey and eventual meal slowing. 

The chase would be short-lived. 

Lúcio stumbled over a root, and tripped, falling to the ground in a tangle of clumsy limbs. He had one quick look before the swarm stopped and then descended. 

The bites never came though, instead a heat, hotter than that of the bites he’d received, and a bright light flashed above his head scattering the swarm of little creatures. Lúcio looked up after a second, noting that the humming of their tiny wings had faded into the distance, and his tether was slack against the ground, and then he was staring into a pair of burning orange eyes lit with an emotion that Lúcio had never seen them express in his two short days of being with the two larger fae. 

He was hauled unceremoniously to his feet and felt the rough scrape of brimstone against his skin through his tunic on his upper arms as Firescrap looked him over for injuries. The imp found his bleeding shoulder, looked at the bite for a few minutes as blood trickled slowly out of wound before he turned to the foliage and ripped a plant straight out of the ground.

Firescrap bit off a chunk of the large root of the little spiky green plant, before he chewed it into a gooey brown paste and spat it back into his flesh hand, “ _Sano,_ ” he murmured to the paste before applying half of it to Lúcio’s shoulder and the other half to his calf. The paste was warm, but not scorching like the bites had been, and after a while in the air cooled to leave his skin numb, the fire ebbing from his veins. The imp cut off a strip of Lúcio’s cloak and wrapped it around each wound before looking over the human for any more injuries. 

Seeing no more damage, his eyes set into a heat of anger, irises practically glowing as he opened his mouth to utter the first words Lúcio heard after the ordeal, “What the hell?”

Lúcio didn’t understand what Firescrap meant by his vague questioning, “I’m sorry, what?”

The fae’s shoulders shook with anger as Pathboar just snorted from his position in between two massive trees, “I said,” he took a steadying breath, “WHAT THE BLOOMIN’ HELL DID YOU GO AFTER A SPRITE FOR!?”

Lúcio jumped at the imp’s tone, angry and hot as the air around them warmed with the energy humming off of Firescrap’s body. The human stammered, “I-I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know,” Firescrap growled out between his teeth before stalking forward and taking the human by his injured arm, squeezing until Lúcio winced, “I’ll make it clear. Don’t trust any fae unless I tell ya’ otherwise. All fae lie, to an extent, there is no honor in a faes word unless the contract is specific. They will find loopholes and exploit them when it profits’em.” 

The imp then took to adjusting the ropes, “ _Dimitto_ ,” and then made the length between them shorter, before he tied it again around Lúcio’s wrist with a strong, “ _Vinclum_.” The human watched the rope threads weave themselves together and tighten again before Firescrap gave the rope an experimental tug to make sure it wasn’t going to come off. 

“Do ya’ understand what I told you,” he inquired in a low voice, orange eyes challenging the human to make one unexpected move and earn himself more trouble. Lúcio thought it better to lie in wait for the time being and look for another way out of his impossible situation. With a simple nod, he watched Firescrap scramble back onto Pathboar’s back before the massive fae led them all back out to the main trail they had been walking just minutes before.

Lúcio allowed himself to be towed along for another couple of miles before the two fae decided to stop and make camp a little off the trail, and as usual Lúcio slept outside the fire’s range, only this time, tied to a tree. Irritated with the hand he’d been dealt, and his wounds sore, the human fell into a listless sleep that was interrupted every few hours with noises from the dark woods around him. His thoughts didn’t dwell much on the fire imp or the strange emotion on his face before. 

Meanwhile, a pair of orange eyes watched the human from his perch near the fire, something stirring in his chest. 

The fae ignored it but continued to watch his merchandise the entire night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're not Snow White Lúcio, not every woodland creature want's to be your friend. And definitely not Spritelings, they will eat you.


	5. The Walk Pt. 2: Irontouched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They keep walking, Lúcio learns something new about the fae, and more specifically Firescrap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter, I had time to write this while I was zooming through my day, thought it best not to agonize over its grammar and everything.

The next day was much more of the same, only the bites on Lúcios leg burned with each step, it didn't take long for him to fall as far behind him as the rope would allow. But he knew better than to ask them to slow down, it seemed that the fae were intent on reaching this “Nalnor,” they often spoke of as their destination, by presumably nightfall. 

As the day went on Lúcio paid less attention to his surroundings and instead observed Firescrap. The blonde fae seemed more… fidgety since the night before. He was twitchy, and every off sound behind him caused him to jump before twisting back to glance at Lúcio. Firescrap was acting like a cornered animal, as if he expected something to hop out of the trees and attack them at any movement.

He was on top of Pathboars back, a hand resting on he knife at his waist. From what Lúcio could observe, he was talking to himself every now and then. Whispering to himself. He didn't know what was up with that. 

Pathboar certaintly didn't talk to himself, in fact the great boar hardly talked at all, much less to himself. This led Lúcio to believe that Firescrap was possibly touched with a form of madness. Why else would he be talking to himself? He muttered to himself and it only grew worse the longer they progressed along the trail. And with every noise from the woods it continued to progress to the point where Firescrap would sometimes exclaim aloud a random word that never made any sense. 

On one such occasion, he shouted, “Thieves,” before drawing off into another mumbling tangent as his fingers hovered dangerously close to his face, the brimstone arm was pulsing with glowing power, the smell of burnt hair, bitter and disgusting invaded Lúcios nose. 

Pathboar stopped his trudging along the path, and lowered his head, then his front shoulders allowing the fire imp to slide down his back and over his massive head. The fire imp sat in the middle of the path in front of the boar, shivering, twitching muttering, brimstone appendages glowing. Lúcio walked forward to get a better look at the situation. He didn't notice Pathboars change back to his more humanoid form. 

With a rumbling sigh, the giant gathered the tiny fae in his arms, and pulled the three of them off the path. The bristles of white hair along Pathboars spine were scorched in one place, and a line of soot was on his skin where firescraps peg leg would have rested. Lúcio had no choice but to follow seeing as he was tied to the fire imp. 

Pathboar sat with the imp in his lap, holding him and rubbing his flesh arm gently. This was the first time Lúcio had seen anything like this, the giant fae rumbled to the other fae until the fire imp stopped shaking. To be honest Lúcio thought fae to be lacking in compassion or care, but here he was staring at a bond so profound that it both made him curious and dare he say it, slightly fond of the experience. A small part of his mind wondered how deep their bond went, while the majority of his mind wondered what the hell was going on. He didn't understand what set Firescrap off in the first place, or how Pathboar knew what was going on even in his boar form or how to bring the imp out of the strange trance like twitching state he had been in. 

By the time it was growing dark, Pathboar was able to leave Firescrap to set up camp on the side of the trail, lighting a fire. The flames cast an orange glow on one side of Firescraps face, the other sat in shadow, except his faintly glowing eyes. They were unfocused, more like dying coals than burning embers. Lúcio had only seen that look on a few others faces after the war with Vishkar, blank and very withdrawn, occasionally muttering things about blood and terror. Lúcio had tried himself many times to drag his mind from his own stupor when the nights waxed long before his eyes, only surviving when his mother brought him out of it. 

Lúcio looked at the fire imp for once, without malice, or fear. The creature had survived something horrible, traumatizing, and came out worse for wear. His heart felt heavy, aching and his lungs felt tight. He didn't understand this feeling, perhaps he pitied the fae that shook with cold. 

It really couldn't have been that, could it? 

Lúcio hated him, Firescrap was his captor, why should the human have any pity or sorrow for the fae? 

He didn't know.

And somehow it was okay. 

He could pity this creature, but go back to planning his escape tomorrow. The fae had seen things, so it wasn't like Lúcio had any reason to harbor ill will towards a being that shared his same curse. Still his mind screamed at him to harden himself against feelings towards fae. Nothing good came of it. 

Pathboar returned, and retrieved Firescrap from the tree to set him closer to the fire, towing Lúcio along. He settled the fire imp on the ground, laying on a bedroll before the fire, his eyes staring at the flames. Pathboar sat sentinel over the smaller fae, Lúcio watched them quietly, a small handful of berries in his hand and skein of water by his side where he sat on the ground near the fire. Ice blue eyes locked onto the humans hazel, and narrowed with slight irritance.

“You got something to say,” the giant fae rumbled, his growl reverberating through the ground to where Lúcio sat. The human dipped his head, ashamed to have been caught, not ashamed to have been staring.

“Yes sir,” Lúcio whispered, aware that the situation was tense. 

“Spit it out.”

With a small jerk of his head at Firescrap, who was now snoring on the bedroll, Lúcio asked, “What happened to him?” The giant fae followed with his own icy gaze to stare at the imp. 

“Your full name,” the giant countered, his question startling the human. Lúcio couldn't help the confused expression that crossed his face, but he knew that if he didn't supply the giant with his name, he would most likely be on the receiving end on the giants fishhook or fist. 

“Lúcio dos Santos,” he spoke quietly. It wasn't his full name. There was something in his head that told him not to give his full name. It didn't seem like the best course of action. Still, half a name is still a name. Pathboar nodded, his white hair shining orange with the light of the fire. 

“Lúcio dos Santos, you are never to speak of what I tell you to anyone else,” the air around them rippled with a tingly feeling that stirred the hairs on the back of Lúcios neck to standing positions. Shuddering in the sudden chill, the human sought a better position to evade the cold that crept up his spine. 

Seemingly satisfied by the humans response, the giant looked back at Firescrap, before starting his tale, “He’s irontouched,” Lúcio didn't understand what that meant, but knew that if he interrupted it would not end well for him, so he stayed quiet as Pathboar continued, “It's not my story to tell, but I can tell you that he suffers from the long term effects of iron. Fae are not meant to even touch iron, but he has. It makes you sick, your skin burns and if touching iron for long enough, you begin to go mad. A long time ago he found a way to suppress the madness, and iron no longer affects him as bad, however he still has moments where stress to his body sets off fits of terror or madness from being irontouched. Normally, fae don't survive iron poisoning, those that do live long enough to forget the touch of iron until the madness sets in.

“He is considered broken in a sense, weak due to his condition,” the giant paused, but with a slight tug on the corners of his lips, another expression Lúcio thought fae didn't have, “but I'd say he's the strongest fae I've ever met.” 

Lúcio sat in silence, eating his berries and finishing off his water before he lay down near the fire, far enough away from the fae, but closer than what he had been before. Instead of his mind dwelling on his mother and his village entirely, while he still did miss them and planned to get back to them as quickly as possible, his mind was drawn to the knowledge that iron hurt fae. If only he could get his hands on some, maybe he would be freed. 

Then again, Pathboar said that Firescrap was no longer affected as bad from iron, still, it was a better plan than nothing. If anything, it was the start of a new task. As he lay down against the ground, for the first night sleeping next to a source of heat and warmth, he watched the shadows of the woods around them read the light of the flames. Where would he find enough iron to get himself out of the predicament he was in?

His heart ached at his thoughts, as if it pained him ever so slightly to think ill towards his captors. Lúcio hardened his heart against the ache, sealing off his thoughts so that he could continue to plan his own escape.

Unbeknownst to him, a seed of doubt was still planted, waiting to germinate and grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lúcio, you can't just ask fae what's wrong with them!


	6. The Walk Pt.3: Bridge Crossing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They continue their march, Lúcio certainly stuns Firescrap and Pathboar with his wits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your comments, really held me together throughout my semester, look forward to posting more of this.

Firescrap was very much himself the day after, if slightly less bouncy and chattery, but very much aware and less skittish. Even the fire imps eyes had looked bright that morning when Lúcios eyes sprang open at the creatures touch to his healing wounds. Sleeping next to the fire for a night had kept the most of the cold out of his joints, the morning had left him significantly less sore and requiring less stretching to get to blood flowing to all his limbs. Lúcio sat on a log as Firescrap tended to his wound care, a hint of warmth in the imps gentle touches against his skin was detected. 

His heart, cold and stony, thrummed a degree warmer, but the human couldn't feel it, as stubborn as he was. The imp didn't need to apply any more of that strange plant root paste, instead he loosely wrapped the slowly scabbing wounds with another strip from Lúcios cloak, before shuffling off to eat something Pathboar had managed to pull from a nearby stream. Lúcio was still tethered to the imp, and followed along, was handed a small strip of what looked to be a river fish. 

A handful of berries and a skein of water followed. At least they fed him, though it wasn't truly enough to fill him for the day until they set up camp again. 

It was while they ate breakfast that Firescrap endeavored to teach the human about his roles as a pet, and to warn him against more potential dangers. His voice was soft, not hard or cackling like his normal boisterous chatter, instead it was tinged with what sounded like wonder, much like that of a child. 

“There are a few rules of survival when with fae, ya follow’em and you'll never go wrong,” he glanced over, orange eyes checking to make sure Lúcio was listening. As much as Lúcio didn't like his future as being a pet and his desires to escape, he had only so many choices to make. Not to mention he recognized this as Firescraps way of trying to help him stay alive, though unbeknownst to the imp, helping him stay alive until the human could run away. The imp continued, “Rule number one, don't accept food from any other fae’cept me or Pathboar, and eventually your new master. If ya don't recognize it, don't eat it.”

It seemed an odd rule, but Lúcio nodded in understanding, thinking that maybe it was in his best interests not to eat otherworldly food that wasn't meant for human consumption. Like how some plants in the forests were not for eating, it would make sense that some foods in the fae world were not meant for him. 

Firescrap peeled another strip of fish off the bones of the river trout, giving some of it to Lúcio. The human looked from the fish to Firescrap, and after the fae gave a nod, the human started to eat it while the imp talked, “Always check wi’me first, I know most foods atta glance. Rule number two, don't create any contracts with any fae unless you completely understand what they are after,” before Lúcio could ask what he meant, the fae continued with the last rule, “And rule number three, don’t do anythin’ brave. Be clever, and quiet, never put ya’ life out there for anyone else. Ya’ would be called weak, and weakness ain't gonna keep ya’ alive.” 

After a few more moments of silence, Firescrap tossed the empty fish bone carcass into the bushes and wiped his hands on the short trousers he wore, placing both hands on his knees, the brimstone one leaving a smear of soot in its wake, he turned to Lúcio and asked, “Any questions?” 

Nodding, Lúcio allowed himself to ask a question he'd forgotten until now to really ask, “Your native tongue, I understand that you can do magic with it?” With snort and a cackling series of giggles, Firescraps mirthful grin broke out of its stressed confines. 

“Nah mate, it's not magic. It's called glamour. Special energy fae can feel and employ to manipulate the world around them. It has two types, the first is a nonspecific type that ya use words to manipulate the energy. The second is an individual type, the kind that only you can use. If ya stayed in Nalnor long’nough ya might get a grasp for the first but only fae can work the second,” his orange eyes glowed with power as he touched the rope bound to Lúcios wrist, loosening it enough to keep it from cutting into his skin, but tight enough that he still couldn't get away. 

The human had a feeling that even with those measures his wrists would be rubbed raw by the time they got to their destination. Firescraps eyes met Lúcio’s, and the human found himself lost in the burning embers that were the faes irises. They were beautiful, the pupils slightly pointed like that of a lizards, but nonetheless gorgeous. If anything, the human felt like he would do anything if those eyes would always be there to treat him. To stare at him, to fill his mind and dreams. It was during his staring contest with Firescrap that Pathboar approached them, having packed up their camp and ready to be on the road again. 

“Time to go,” the brusque voice of the giant fae broke through the small simple silence the human and the fire imp were sharing. Something in the air between them broke, a charged energy dissipating into the spring air as if nothing had happened. Lúcio shook himself out of the daze, unable to remember what he'd been thinking up until the point that Pathboar had interrupted.

Firescrap got up, and it took Lúcio a little while to actually shake himself from whatever had caused the haze to crawl over his mind. It was strange to say the least, that he was put under a captivated trance just like that, in the snap of a finger. However, he’d never had prolonged eye contact with Firescrap before. Maybe there was something about the fae that made them irresistible, and yet very very dangerous. Perhaps he would have really done anything if the fae had asked it of him in that moment. 

The thought made part of him shiver, which he shook out of his shoulders with a gentle rolling rocking motion from side to side. But another part of him wanted to concede, and even felt tingly at the thought of being totally under control of Firescrap. He chalked it up to his imagination running loose and wild, the first signs of madness creeping up on him. He was going crazy. 

It meant that he’d have to work harder and faster to get away from them. 

Firescrap craned his head over his shoulder just slightly, startling Lúcio yet again from his thoughts, a wry smile on his lips as he said, “And don’t look anyone in the eye. It’s easy to slip past yer mind’s defenses and really scramble everythin’ up.” As much as it was a warning, it was also somewhat protective in its nature. Maybe it was also a backwards apology, if you thought hard enough about it. A stroke of fear went through Lúcio. 

The fae has been inside his head. What if he saw that the human was trying to escape? That the human was formulating plans against them. Would Firescrap kill him? A frantic sort of urgent insistence on escaping started to grow inside Lúcios head. He needed to leave and soon. 

If the imp knew that he wanted to leave, it was only a matter of time before he told Pathboar, and before they would either kill or sell him. Time was running out. 

They were on the road and sometime around noon, they came to a bridge made of river stones sunken into a hard mixture. Lúcio was told that it was a rock paste made by earth fae, and when it hardened it was near impossible to break. Near impossible, but not completely. In some spots, from what Lúcio could see around Pathboars side, it had been worn away by the rain and other precipitation. Parts of it, excepting the path over the tumbling river below, were covered in moss and lichen of all shades of green to gray. A few red mushrooms that looked like stocking caps grew around the ends of the bridge, like little sentinels. To be honest, Lúcio was sure that he'd seen some a while back on their way closer to the bridge, huddled around tree roots and alongside the road. 

Firescrap and Pathboar halted just before the stones of the bridge, the orange-eyed fae looked about, his eyes scanning in every which direction. Pathboar drew great breaths in through his nostrils, ever so slightly shifting his head so his nose had more access to the different types of air before blowing it out in a snort again. 

“We are not alone,” the giant rumbled, startling Lúcio from where he stood by the white bristly shoulder of the boar, he wasn’t aware that Pathboar could talk in both forms. In and of itself, it was kind of creepy, but when coupled with the thought that fae were unpredictable in their powers and mysteries, it wasn’t so startling or scary at all. 

But a cold wind of fear crawled it’s way up the humans spine and neck, he didn’t like the way the giant had sounded. Like being alone was better than their current situation. A loud rumble shook the earth, and Lúcio struggled to keep his footing, even though Pathboar braced himself against the ground like some kind of heavy vehicle and stood his ground right next to the human. 

The bridge was moving. 

“Troll,” Firescrap muttered to himself, though laugh enough that Lúcio could hear. 

As it rose, the rocks took a shape of a humanoid, all gray and green like stone and moss, the hulking creature stood before the two fae and human the grating of rock on rock could be heard as it moved it’s limbs. A short grayish beard of moss and hair of lichene framed a stony face, a long gouge in the rock over what looked to be one eye told of a wound made long ago. 

A deep rumble of a voice came from it’s open mouth, the undertones of it’s speech strikingly male, “I smell your fear, human.” Lúcio looked just above the fae’s head, avoiding eye contact, through two gleaming white stones stared at him, the trolls eyes no doubt. 

Firescrap slid to the ground, drawing the trolls attention to himself, as he approached as if he were a long time friend, the fae stopped short though, a mere four feet from the troll as he said, “Trollie! Been a long time, hows’bout ya’ let us pass with no charge ‘eh? Fer old times sake?” 

Firescrap knew this monster? Lúcio was both impressed, and slightly shocked that the fire imp had had dealings with a troll, even so much as to call the beast friend. From what little the humans knew of trolls, Lúcio knew that they lived near bridges and by roads in caves to charge travelers with prices they often could not pay. When they could not pay, the trolls ate them as a settlement price. 

Lúcio curled closer to Pathboar, as the troll faced his good eye back on the human, who looked down under the penetrating stone gaze. The rumbling voice ground out, “You know the payment fire imp, pay it and cross. Your companion and human will have to pay also. That is our deal and you know it well.” 

“Now listen here you mangy-” Firescrap began to threaten the troll, before Pathboar stepped forward, towing Lúcio’s line with him.

“You have our word, Trollhardt.”

Again that stony gaze fell upon the human, what was so interesting about himself that the troll could not look away? Why did Lúcio have to be the center of attention? And it wasn’t just this time, he seemed to attract unwanted attention along their journey. Including the animosity of trees for crying out loud. They’d tried to trip him up with their roots or smack him with low hanging branches. 

The The troll sat back, his stone fingers scratching against his moss beard with a _scrape, scrape, scrape_ of his nails as he pondered the human a little more, “What of the human? All must pay the price, I doubt you’d forget that Firescrap. At least, all that are living of course.” The clever grin of the troll was seen by Lúcio, and the human shuddered to think that this was the end of the road for him. He would die on this bridge if he did not pay this “price” that the troll spoke of. 

“Oi,” Firescrap shouted at the troll, balling up his brimstone fist as he threatened to wallop the giant creature, “I nevah’ forget a payment! Ain’t that right Pathie?”

Pathboar didn’t answer the fire imp, instead he was studying the troll closely, looking for chinks in his bargain, or soft spots in his hide. But the verbage was sound, as were the stones on his back. The only way forward was for them to pay their dues and move forwards. They weren’t going to get any better deal than that, and they weren’t going to be able to outsmart a troll. The legends that told of them being stupid and bumbling, were all a lie, trolls were highly intelligent hunters, strong and powerful with fierce hides. They were probably the only fae in existence that could touch iron for a bit and not get hurt. 

The troll thumped his fist against the ground, startling the human, Lúcio looked up at the giant creature as it spoke, “Speak human, will you agree to the price? Or will you perish?” He knew he had to be smart about it, Firescrap had warned him against making bargains of any kind, and this was definitely a set up for a bargain. The troll no doubt intended to take more from him than any of the other fae that he already had contracts with. 

Raising his eyes and his voice Lúcio broke Firescrap’s suggestion and gazed directly into the pearly white stone eyes of Trollhardt, and what’s more spoke, “What does this price entail, I want to know the specific details.” His voice was strong, as he didn’t want to seem like he would be an easy target for the troll to work his glamour on. 

The troll laughed, “You are spirited. I see now why most often Firescrap’s prey is dead,” at Lúcio’s deadpan stare and unimpressed expression the troll cleared his throat and explained his price, “A memory of the outside world. Of course you won’t be receiving it back, so if you’ll kindly open your mind I will retrieve it now.” 

The troll reached forward his stone hand towards Lúcio as the human thought about the price. There was something about this deal that didn’t seem right. The fae could, essentially, steal any one of his memories, and the human would be none the wiser. There was no telling the troll’s agenda, whether it be good or evil, and that did not sit right with Lúcio who stepped away from the outstretched fingers of the troll. 

“Not so fast,” Lúcio remarked, before stroking his sparse facial hair and then asking, “Can I add a condition to the deal? In accordance for safe passage across the bridge, I will give you a memory, a single memory, but one of my choice. I promise that it will be a prime one.” The human had a fairly simple memory he wished to give the troll, but not one of his most prized ones. 

Firescrap looked angry, Lúcio ignored thought of the faes future punishment and harshness and continued on with his plan.

The troll removed his hand slightly, “That is not how this works-”

Lúcio interrupted, “I’m sorry, but according to my knowledge a deal or bargain is made with both parties consent. You cannot add your own conditions and expect me to not have mine taken into the deal as well. But if you don’t want a one of a kind memory, only one that you could get from me; a human who lived outside the realm that you are in, then I suppose I’ll just call it off and walk back home.” 

The troll seemed to be on the verge of desperation, like memories were the most important thing to him, and to be honest they very well might have been for all Lúcio knew. Turning on his heal slowly, hands in his trouser pockets, Lúcio started to walk as far as the rope would allow, as he was still technically connected to Pathboar and Firescrap by the magic rope. But the troll could not have known that. He’d probably never even seen a human alive caught by the pair of fae before. And certainly never met a human like Lúcio. 

Just as he was nearing the end of his rope, the troll’s booming voice struck out, “Wait, human,” Lúcio only gave the being a sideways glance, acting nonchalant as possible. His plan was succeeding, “Swear to me that it is a prime memory. On your real name.” That must have been what Firescrap had mentioned about making contracts, the name thing. 

“I, Lúcio dos Santos, swear I will give you, Trollhardt a one of a kind memory in exchange for safe passage,” Lúcio was careful to word his contract, he hoped that in his desperation the troll wouldn't read too carefully into the humans words. 

“Yes yes, now come here human let us be done with chatter,” Lúcio did as the troll bade, emptying his mind of all but the memory he wouldn't mind being rid of. It wasn't a bad memory, nor was it pleasant, it was only one of the many he kept.

He thought about it felt laying there, all sunshine and flowers before looking to his right to see a hideous sight. His mother, overturned on her stomach, head twisted to look directly at him, the blood running down her face from a steel ax shoved into her head. Her eyes glazed over in death and fear. The horror that he felt at seeing such a sight. 

It was a dream he’d had, a nightmare, on the anniversary of the beginning of his battles with Vishkar, until the anniversary of its end. One he was willing to be rid of. Every time he'd thought of it, dreamt it he'd woken with a bitter taste in his mouth, his body sweating and the night air cold on his clammy skin. He was happy to be rid of it. 

Fear would do him no good in the land of the fae, past the trolls bridge. 

Trollhardt touched his finger to Lúcios brow, the stone cool against his skin. When he removed his finger from that humans head, Lúcio opened his eyes, not at all remembering what memory he gave but a strange feeling of gladness for the encounter with the troll filled his chest. He never knew a deal with a fae could inspire such feelings of relief. He felt lighter. 

Trollhardt stepped out of the humans path, having already admitted the other two fae, “As promised, you may pass. Thank you for your contribution,” and like that the troll went back to his spot in the bridge, the stones smoothing over as if the creature had never surfaced in the first place. 

Lúcio followed his captors over the bridge and into the woods beyond, feeling somewhat saddened at the loss of a friendly fae. Still, that lift feeling remained, even if his head was somewhat troubled by the feeling of having forgotten something important. 

In any case he moved on with a shrug and went back to trudging behind the boar shaped fae and the fire imp. Plotting again his escape. 

Meanwhile, in the hollows of his mind, the troll pondered the memory the human had given him. He didn't feel outwitted at all, on the contrary he believed the human would have given him the worst memory imaginable, or a scrap so twisted that it would break upon viewing, the strands crumbling before his eyes. No, a memory most profound he was given, the field of flowers and the death of someone the human loved very much. A memory that was unique, both happy and painful. 

Trollhardt knew that the human had suffered much on account of the memory, and in the darkness, the troll pulled the memory close, filing it away among his favorites. It was the raw emotion that he liked most about the memory. 

The emotions felt often by humans, and hardly ever by fae.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trollhardt is a troll who guards the entrance to Nalnor, the realm of the fae. Because his job is stationary he asks for memories of the other side, he wishes to explore, but cannot leave his post. 
> 
> I also wanted to adapt over the traditional lore that trolls are dim witted bumbling fools. I feel like a cunning troll would be more appropriate as a guardian because essentially that's what Reinhardts job is as a tank/defender.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this addition, feel free to hit me up with plot ideas if you have some, definitely feel collaborative and will take your suggestions into account.


	7. The Walk pt.4: Journeys End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their paths come to a crossroads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I've been working hard on a comic that I wanted to pursue. And my school work. Life just gets away from us sometimes.

That night when the trio of persons stopped and made camp, Firescrap whirled on Lúcio with a flurry of burning questions and accusatory gestures to accompany the fierce orange glow of his irises. The human, while annoyed at being verbally attacked knew better than to interrupt the dangerous and unpredictable male fae. 

“WHY DID YOU MAKE A CONTRACT WITH TROLLHARDT,” Firescrap roared, rearing to his full height as his pale flesh hand clenched and unclenched at his sides, unbeknownst to the fae, his hands were rising as if to strangle the living daylights out of Lúcio if the human gave him the wrong answer. 

“You never said I couldn’t make contracts,” Lúcio said, his own voice rising in challenge as he was swept up by the heated energy of anger. How dare the fire im talk down to him! It wasn’t as if Lúcio had walked into the deal blindly or without knowledge. He knew the troll had taken a memory, and that it wasn’t of much importance what was taken, because he had made a bargain that he would get to pick. Lúcio was very confident he would have only given something that had little to no value to him but would have still met the requirements of it being “unique.” 

It was at this time that Firescrap grasped the human by his shoulders, hands blisteringly hot against Lúcio’s fragile skin covered only by the thin layer his tunic made, and shook him a bit, “DO YA’ KNOW WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED IF THAT TROLL HAD TRICKED YA’? DO YA’ HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU’VE DONE?”

Lúcio threw the fire imps hands off of him with a roll of his shoulders and a circular rotation of his arms, causing the fae to stumble back a bit. He shouted back at the imbecilic fae, “I knew what I was doing! I was being careful. How could I have just let him take one of my memories if I’d never get it back? If anything I was obeying your stupid rules by knowing exactly what I was bargaining for!” 

That last statement made Firescrap pause, frozen still by the human’s words. Lúcio was right, but the fire imp was too stubborn to admit that his current actions were uncalled for. That and what the human had done really terrified him. Lúcio could have gotten hurt, Trollhardt could have killed the human if he didn’t like the bargain’s conditions. And that had scared the fae. He didn’t know why or how, but the thought of losing the human was almost too much to bear. Granted they had met only a few days ago, days, that was the right time unit yeah? However the imp didn’t want to lose track of the human. 

He was valuable. 

_Maybe even- no, that wasn’t possible._ Firescrap shook his head, blowing a column of smoke out through his nostrils as he calmed the angry flames in his chest. Pinching the bridge of his nose in between brimstone forefingers and thumb, the imp sighed before looking at Lúcio, “Look, it’s dangerous ta’ make contracts with fae ya’ barely know. He could’a killed ya’ if he didn’t like your conditions. Just be careful next time, and don’t look other fae in the eyes again, alroight?”

The human, as insolent and infuriating as he could be didn't say anything. It was like talking to a stone wall, a very valuable stone wall. A fragile stone wall. The fae put his hand on the humans shoulder, trying to be as calm as possible as he said, “Do ya’ understand?”

This time Lúcio didn't shrug the fae off, instead he closed his hazel eyes. He was tired, and sore from walking and irritated from being towed around like an animal. He didn't want to agree with Firescrap, he didn't want to admit to the blonde haired fae, who’d put him in the situation in the first place, was right. He'd given him rules so that the human would be safer in the world and Lúcio had tried to blatantly ignore those rules in favor of what he wanted to do. 

But the fae was right. It was dangerous to make contracts with unknown creatures. He'd figured that out when it came to the pixies, not wandering off was a good start, as well as asking for favors from fae can be dangerous. Making contracts with them would be in a similar category of non safety. Still, was he expected to make contracts with his future master? Was that what happened when someone bought a human pet? Would that be considered not safe? 

All the more reason to leave. All the more reason to break free and run back across that bridge back to the relative safety of his forest and his village. Maybe even take his mother and flee far far away, or better yet build fences of iron around his house. 

Opening his eyes, the human leveled his gaze with the orange irises of the fae creature, “I understand.” 

Firescrap pat the humans shoulders awkwardly mumbling, “Good, good…” before he shuffled away muttering to himself about traps and and fire and humans, body twitching occasionally. It was strange, while staring at Firescrap, Lúcio got that peculiar feeling again. The one that felt slightly tight and warm in his chest. Snug. The human rubbed at the center of his chest, willing the feeling to go away, and joined the two fae, sitting a bit away from them on their logs but closer than before.

 

 

Minutes to hours and hours to days the sun chased the moon in an endless cycle around the simplicity that was Lúcios road life. Not much happened on the road after they'd crossed the trolls bridge. Nothing if you don't could the casual conversations Firescrap and the human struck up during the long walking hours. Gone we're the days where the human was towed behind the giant boar by a line of rope just long enough to not give him any slack. No, now the days were spent walking nearly shoulder to hip with the fae on the back of Pathboar, actively enjoying the strangely easy conversations. 

The giant fae merely observed how the rope remained slack, almost dragging along the ground, and the humans more candid nature towards his captors. As if the human had finally come to see that his future was set, only in an optimistic light as he seemed as cheerful as the Queens flowers in her brilliant summer gardens. It was odd, Lúcios behavior, however it didn't seem to be doing any harm to the fae so the boar let it continue hoping to never regret his silent passivity. 

Today's talk was like any other, silences drifting in and out in a natural flow, often punctuated by the sounds of the forest. They were discussing the merits of pants, what they're meant for. 

“Look, all I'm saying is that running around with your legs on display is a good way to get them injured,” Lúcio commented, Firescrap didn't believe that pants were really necessary, and the human was trying hardest to convince the fae that pants were useful in their own right. 

Firescrap scratched at his blond hair, brimstone hand leaving scorch marks along the blonde curls, as he tried to picture pants as being useful. The fae mused, “Ya’know, I don’ think pants’re all that great. Get caught on most every low growing' plant in the forest.” 

“Forget I spoke then,” Lúcio mused from beside the giant boar, who merely shuffled forward at the same pace they had always been walking at. Pathboar disliked the slow pace, it made their journey back twice as long than it normally would take if the human prey were dead. However, since Firescrap had used his true name against the giant fae, Pathboar could do nothing about the situation except set the boundaries he had. And even then the human ignored some of his rules when it came to the fire imp. 

Even so, their journey was coming to an end, the human and Firescrap soon stopped talking when the sounds of a city started to break through the forests peace. The giant boar snorted a sigh, ready to get the transactions over with to then spend his share of the money on food and drink. What he needed after all of the time walking and camping and saving the pathetic human from his own folly, was good food, good wine, and a good night's sleep. One glance over at the human, told the old boar all he needed to know. 

Lúcio was resigned to his fate as a pet, though still defiant, he would go peacefully and wait for his time to strike. Yes the giant knew the human wouldn't give up in running away, humans were too stubborn to do so. Even if it killed him, Lúcio was the type to try anything to get free. But there was also fear, apparent in the way that the human crowded closer to the giant boar and Firescrap and didn't wander, not with all the different fae staring and whispering at the Great Beast of Nalnor and his fiery companion, and the small human they brought with them. It was normal for the two fae who walked past without blinking an eye, but for the human it must have been uncomfortable. 

The giant fae thought that anxious shrunken expression on Lúcios face was… well not right. In an attempt to make him normal again, the giant grumbled loud enough for everyone to hear, “About your business.”

In a flurry of action, the noise in the marketplace started up again, fae went about their business as usual whilst occasionally stealing glances at the trio as they passed by. 

_That…_ the giant thought, _that is better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwwww Pathboar you're a bit of a softie.


	8. The Markets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lúcio gets his ass sold to a grumpy bear constellation. And everyone gets impressed by Firescraps ability to handle iron.

The markets were awash in morning sunlight, the sun lazily tracing a path across the sky. Illuminating everything in bright colors. The human stared at tapestries, jewels sparkling in the sunlight, armor glinting on armor racks in blacksmiths shops and some of the strangest stalls that Lúcio had ever seen. 

Firescrap passed by it like he’d seen it a million times. To Lúcios knowledge he probably had already. Pathboar, after his command ushered to all the fae, was silent. Lúcio simply followed the two of them, trailing a few steps behind them as Pathboar had instructed him before. 

Lúcio was behind the two fae as they stopped before another fae at a table. A sheet of parchment laid on the table an inkwell and quill set beside it for the signing of names. A barrel of wooden boards on rope sat on the left of the table. They had strange runes written on them, Lúcio assumed that it was the fae language, their written language. 

He wondered how many of them could read. Lúcio didn’t really know how to read all that well, any and all stories from his village were passed on by word of mouth. News included. To put it frankly, his head was a bookshelf filled with different tales that his village had given him, and even a few of his own that he’d made up. It was hard to memorize more information when it was written down. As soon as you wrote it down, he wondered if it disappeared from your head. 

The fae was long and spindly, female from the raspy tenor of her voice, her body reminded him of plants, ferns or bushes or even a tree, her torso the stalk from which her arms and legs sprouted like branches and roots. However it was blue, not green, a low, white, cowl-like hood hid her leafy hair, long grey strands like ash covered willow branches, and a patch covered her right eye. A strange glowing gold symbol laid beneath the lashes of her right eye. The human wondered what it was that the symbol signified. 

He wouldn’t have the time to ask, Pathboar picked up the quill and wrote something down in the runes, the ink glowed gold before fading to black. Then Firescrap signed and the fae smiled, bearing needle sharp teeth. 

“Thank you for your business Fireling, I will find this one a place among us,” the blue fae rested a slender soft hand on Lúcio a shoulder startling the poor human out of his trance. 

“Ya witch, ya know damn well my name’s Firescrap,” Firescrap snapped at her, but the blue fae simply replied with a chuckle, and nodded with an amused, “But of course.” 

She then started to pick through the wooded boards, they bonked against each other like a hammer on the wood walls of his hut when he used to replace some of the boards for his mother. 

What had just happened? One minute he was tied to a magical rope in the hands of Firescrap and the next he knew, Lúcio was watching the strange female fae sift through her boards on ropes as he stood there waiting for her instructions.

Firescrap approaches the human gently, and laid his normal hand on Lúcio’s arm, “Ya’ gotta stay with Hoodmark. She’ll find you an owner.” Lúcio felt a pang if something shoot straight through his heart. He didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t good. It was almost like loss. Like what he’s felt when he had stood on that battle field watching his fellow villagers gather up their dead. Wondering what the point of it all was. Lúcio has forgotten to actually run away when he spent time with Firescrap, and now that he was being left behind by the fire imp, he didn’t know what to do with himself other than give a stiff nod.

Hoodmark found what she was looking for, and placed an itchy rope over his neck so that a board slapped against his chest. The sound was hollow. As hollow as the human felt inside. After all they’d talked about and spent time in each other’s company, Lúcio knew that he was going to miss Firescraps near gentle ways and exuberant joy and wonder at small things. They way he talked about his dreams and used his hands to make gestures. He also knew that he would miss Pathboars firm unyielding presence, and the smallest details and mannerisms he had. Like feeding scraps to small creatures, and gently admiring daises along the road. 

The female fae tied a different rope around his wrists and Firescrap released his spellbound rope. Hoodmark was gentle as she led him back through the alley way behind her table stall, and lined him up next to other creatures of all shapes and sizes colors and species. Most stared at the ground in dejected defeat, while some others looked to the sky blankly staring at the blue. Pondering their freedom or their minds not having existed in the first place. Lúcio shook away the empty sad feeling inside of him, puffing up his chest. He would not lose to these fae. He’d escape. He was sure of it. No fae was going to break his heart or his spirit. 

The line of creatures started moving forward, and Lúcio was instructed politely by fae holding spears to walk forward with them. Hoodmark stood on a galley, the kind where dead men hung, a sheet of paper in one hand as she watched the procession of would be slaves marching up the creaking fading wooden steps. The hot sun beat down on them from overhead and the courtyard surrounding it smelled like blood and other foul things. A smaller fae whimpered at all the attention they were being given. A small crowd of finely dressed fae decorated in jewels and fancy clothing, armor and bejeweled weapons had gathered below the galley Hoodmark was standing on. 

One by one they auctioned off the creatures until Lúcio was the last one left. Hoodmark spoke in the fae language, took his arm and lifted it to the side and up to show off the toning of his muscles. She brushed her hands gently over his shoulders and tangled hair, still speaking that strange language. Audible gasps and murmurs of approval followed each comment made by Hoodmark.

She started the bidding, and Lúcio was surprised at how fast hands went into the air and with rapid succession. The bidding stopped at what Lúcio presumed was the highest number, a male face decorated in scars and battle wounds with shaggy brown hair and a beard. He looks surprisingly… human. All excepting the pointed ears that stuck or from underneath his wold unkempt hair. He wore the pelt of an animal of some kind, strapped across his chest. A cross bow slung over the other shoulder. His pants were dirty and dusty and in one hand he held a bottle of soemthing Lúcio could only explain as a mulled wine of some sort. 

Hoodmark nodded to the fae and beckoned him up to collect his winnings. The closer he got, the more Lúcio noticed that the man’s left arm was actually covered in fur, a huge bear paw at the end, long black claws glinted in the sunlight. The male took a drink from his bottle, handed over a sack of coins to Hoodmark, and took the end of the rope that Lúcios hands were bound with. With a harsh tug on the rope, the fae got the human moving. 

Lúcio dug his heels into the dirt as hard as he could. If he could break away now, he could make it if he ran. He could get out of here. The male fae stopped to whip around and confront the struggling human. Two angry red eyes peered out from under all that hair. 

_“Sile!”_ he shouted at Lúcio, but the human couldn’t understand fae speak. He stopped struggling, but he did glare at the bear fae. Like a wild animal the human bared his teeth. He wasn’t going to give up. He was going to leave that horrid place behind a free man. 

The male fae yanked on the rope hard, causing Lúcio to fall to his knees. The rope was long enough and his hands were bound in front of him. If he pulled the rope underneath the fae’s legs he could get out of here. Lúcio put one foot on the ground, his other knee planted but prepared to run. Gathering some of the slack in the rope, he watched as the fae started walking again, his back turned to the human. He was going to get out. 

Today was the day. 

The human lurched forward after the fae, swinging the rope down and under the males knees, and then bolted forward. The fae fell flat on his back with a loud thud, the end of Lúcios rope ripped from his hands as the human sprinted past unsuspecting fae. He had wound part of it up, but a small tail of it trailed behind him. He didn’t care. He was getting out. 

Shapes and faces flew past him as he ran for his life among the market streets. Running so fast through stalls and people that he got scraped up, and he even slipped and fell a few times. Blood stained his ratty clothes dripped in a trail behind him, he was running too fast and didn’t have time to cover it up. If he didn’t get out he would be forever trapped in the fae world, he would go insane. He’d never see his Mum again. The forest appeared up ahead, just past the gates.

He was tired, his legs hurt, and a throbbing pain had started up from his knee with every step that he took. But he had to keep going, so Lúcio put on a burst of speed. Everything was fine, he was going to get out. That is, until someone stepped on his rope tail. 

Lúcio was sent sprawling into the dirt, a few feet from the exit, the forest so close. A gash had opened up from the rocks in the dirt path, painful and deep along his left shoulder. Wincing, the human opened his eyes, watching as the blurry shapes of the fae circled him. However they didn’t close in on him, instead they stood a few feet from him. A loud higher pitched voice rang out, a mad cackle and a lanky blob started to come forewarn from the crowd to see what all the fuss was about. 

Lúcios vision tasted to clear, just in time for him to see Firescrap looming over him with a sad expression. A small seed of shame adorned the humans heart at Firescraps disappointed face. The faes orange eyes weren’t glowing half as bright as they usually did. With a ragged sigh, the male fae extended a hand to the utter horror of the crowd. 

Lúcio didn’t want to take his hand though. As stupid as it was. He didn’t want to give the fae any reason to put him in debt. Firescrap sighed, “Up ya get ya crazed bastard,” and at that sentence he reached for Lúcios wrist which had blood on it. A sizzling sound came from the contact of his bare flesh hand to Lúcios arm, but Firescrap didn’t pull away in pain even though his hand turned red and angry and looked to be… eaten away by Lúcios own blood. 

When the human was on his feet the fae male wiped the blood of his hands on his trousers and then proceeded to wrap a long cloth bandage around he damaged skin. The fae in the circle gasped as he showed no pain. They whispered among themselves “dangerous” and “iron touched.” Staring at Firescrap like he was mad or insane. Which be probably was, but Lúcio had grown to at least appreciate that about the male. Firescrap gathered up the left over rope laying on the grounD, coiling it into loops before he crossed behind Lúcio. Placing his brimstone hand on one shoulder, the molten rock smearing the powdery soot across the humans cape, Firescrap gently nudged Lúcio back in the direction of the markets. In the direction of the slave portion of it. 

The humans damn traitorous legs gave into the soft cajoling of the fire imp, and he shuffled forward as the other fae parted and gave them both a wide berth. It wasn’t long until they were back in front of Hoodmark a stall, an angry looking bear fae with his arms crossed tapping his foot and arguing with the whispy blue helike. 

Hoodmark greeted their arrival with a gentle smile towards Firescrap, “Thank you Fireling,” then she turned to the bear fae, “See Major? I told you he wouldn’t get far.”

Firescrap extended the rope out to the bear fae, who snatched it up with disgust, surprising to the human he spoke in Common,“It better not run away again. I don’t got time for chasin’ a weak human around all the damn time, Hood. Much less have tolerance for some iron-touched, fire-brained idiot to send after’em.” The fire imp bristled alongside Lúcio, and the human got the distinct impression that fae were either scared of him or disgusted by him, or like Pathboar, simply tolerant. But few were the numbers of those who tolerated him. 

“Listen ya’ crazed bastard,” Firescrap stuck his brimstone finger, it had brightened considerably in the heat of his anger and glowed like stoked coals, in the bear faes face, straightening himself out from his hunched over position to tower over the human who watched from the sidelines, “If ya don’t like my haul ya can get a refund and give me back my pet and I’ll sell’I’m somewhere else. Yer lucky I was even here to stop him from runnin’! Otherwise just take what ya paid for and quit ya’ whinin’ ya cunt!” 

With a growl the bear fae backed off, towing the rope along with him, he haggled with Hoodmark over a contract. Lúcio wasn’t paying attention to them, instead he was watching Firescrap with a confused sort of interest. What kind of being would defend something he didn’t have any use for? 

Firescrap ran his flesh hand through his blonde hair, now hunched back over closer to Lúcios height, and then looked over with one orange eye. A sad sort of fondness shone there is the orange depths of his iris, and Lúcio had to set his mouth in a firm line to keep from smiling even in the slightest. He wasn’t fond of the fae male. 

Firescrap reaches over with his flesh hand and patted the humans head lightly, “They won’t hurt ya if ya don’t run away, Lúc.” 

The human was startled. That was the first time Firescrap had ever spoken directly to him with his own name, or even a pet name at that. That small warm emotion came back a bit. He… he wasn’t going to miss him. 

A small hair ruffle and the fire imp was taking his hand from Lúcios hair, his hand following the curve of the humans head to his cheek. If the human didn’t know any better he would have said that time froze. The moment their bare skin touched, an electric spark flowed from the human to the fae, causing a small grime to break out on the fire imps face. The human liked how warm his hand was, liked the heat of the fire imps inner flame on his face, against his skin. He… he wasn’t…

The imp removed his hand as Major tugged on Lúcios rope, catching the human off guard. And then he was being led away by the silent bear fae, looking over his shoulder occasionally to see the fire in standing tall amongst the crowded market. Orange eyes following after brown, watching as they disappeared over the hill. 

He wasn’t going to miss him… he wasn’t… 

Oh who was he kidding? 

Lúcio would miss Firescrap terribly, even if he tried his hardest to deny it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sile- Be still 
> 
> Sorry for the long wait... had a mental break down a few weeks back and hen got kinda... well meh to say the least. Want to thank all of you for commenting and Kudo-ing because it st least spurred me to write more. 
> 
> Ursa Major is McCree if you guys can’t guess.
> 
> Hoodmark is Ana. I uhh... I couldn’t come up with a better name xd. 
> 
> And as much as you guys know human blood has iron in it, and it acts like an acid eating away at fae skin.


	9. Green and Glowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lúcio's new master and home, and possibly a new friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it took so long people. I've been really blocked this last chapter. Trying to figure out how I wanted to portray the new character additions. I start school again soon. Don't know how much time I'll have for writing. I promise to try and keep up.

The walk from the markets to Majors home had been punctuated with a heavy silence, though the walk was short and they passed many trees, the silence made each second drag by as the human shuffled along behind the bear fae. Lúcio avoided talking to Major at all costs, no matter how boring it was, he didn’t want to end up on the wrong end of those claws. Instead, he tried to pass the time gazing at the passing scenery. 

Trees upon more trees in every shade of green and every leaf size they passed each more boring than the rest. In some spots among their old gnarled roots there grew little flowers. Bright spots of pink, blue, yellow, red, orange and all manner of colors bloomed under the shade of those gentle ancient trees. Even so, the scenery seemed a bit boring if not tediously repetitive. 

It was dark when they finally made it to the small farm and cottage where Major lived. A candle glowed in the windowsill to the small clay cottage. Oddly enough it reminded Lúcio of his own home. And that brought some sadness and guilt. His failed escape attempt made him feel like he failed his mother. Made him feel like it was hopeless and useless to run. It was a bit discouraging to have failed. Somehow Lúcio knew he had to get out, he just had to. 

A small plot of tilled earth sat to the right of the cottage, little sprouts popping up out of the soil. It must have been the start of the growing season. The dirt pathway up to the house was well kept, trodden upon by many feet. Upon coming closer into the clearing and approaching the cottage Lúcio noticed another squat building, smaller than the cottage itself but still a small building. It looked to be warm and dry, Major stopped them both outside of it and knocked on the clay wall gently, but loud enough to be heard. 

The cloth that was hanging in front of the doorway was lifted aside to reveal another fae. A smaller male, with glowing green eyes, in fact, it was almost as if his face was luminescent as if with little stars in strange patterns. And his skin… it was dark, but not in the normal way that the skin is dark, it was dark in the way of plants and nature, not skin tone. Dark green skin striped it’s way down his neck, lighter green underlying it. His hair was short, as Lúcio could see, and a lighter color, with Lúcios small knowledge of fae creatures and the numbers that he’d met, the human would say that color of it was likely to be green. Only dawn would tell. 

When the fae male opened his mouth to speak Lúcio noted his sharp fangs, and teeth, “You’ve returned,” he looked over Majors shoulder and caught Lúcios eyes, “And with a new charge too. Why are his hands bound?” 

“He ran away,” Major answered, and handed the rope to the other fae male, “Make sure he’s tied up for the night Draco.” In the darkness of the shelter, something else stirred causing Draco to look over one bare shoulder. After the rustling of blankets had stopped, he turned to face Major again and gave a small nod. With a huff of air, Major handed Draco the end of Lúcios rope and wandered off to the cottage. Most likely he stayed there, while his servant Draco slept in the small hut before the human. The dark sky was lit with a few stars, and bioluminescence of the surrounding plants and fungi. 

A gentle tug on Lúcios rope had the human looking back towards Draco, the fae male smiled his sharp tooth grin, one that didn’t incite fear or anger but a feeling of calm. He didn’t seem like the type to hurt others at first glance. 

Lúcio liked that about the fae male. 

It was pretty much the only thing he liked about the entire situation.

“Sit down, please, you have nothing to fear from me,” Draco was still smiling, his pointy teeth no longer as unnerving as they used to be to the human, he supposed that the faes cheerful demeanor was part of that fade of his fear. Lúcio sat down on the ground before the entrance to the hut, pulling his cloak closer around his shoulders for warmth against the growing cold night air. 

There was a small silence in which the two had sat watching the flora glow in soft greens and blues, illuminating the ground they sat upon. Lúcio was hesitant to say anything, knowing that fae were dangerous. Even if they were kind and gentle towards him, they were still powerful and dangerous. It was best to tread on the side of caution. Especially if he was going to try running away again. He wondered what Firescrap was up to. 

Maybe he was sharpening his knife, or eating, perhaps sleeping. The human didn’t see why he was thinking about the fire imp now. It’s not like it would do him any good to waste time on thoughts of his orange eyes or blonde hair streaked with soot. That somewhat manic grin and those weirdly charming mannerisms. A pain inside his chest began, only the size of a needle, but it stung and smarted the more he thought about the male. 

It was strange how so little a time spent together made him feel such things for the iron-touched fae. 

Lúcio's eyes grew heavier and heavier. Each space between blinks became longer. His breathing became slower, heartbeat dropping down to a steady lethargic beat. 

He didn’t even remember falling asleep there on the porch of the hut, surrounded by glowing plants and the ambiance of the small farm. 

Draco returned to his bed in the hut, hoping to get words out of the new pet in the next coming days of work and toil. No doubt they would have plenty of time to talk later. Maybe… maybe he would have a new friend to talk to now that the human was here. Ancients knew the human would need it to survive the transition of worlds. 

Just as Draco had centuries ago.

 

Lúcio woke to someone shaking his shoulder gently, the sun just peeking up over the tops of the trees. He was still laying on the porch in front of the small hut, Draco’s green and scaly hand on his shoulder rousing him from a sleep that would no doubt leave his muscles aching and sore from sleeping on something equivalent to the ground in comfort. It was mornings like this that made him wish for his pallet of straw back at home. Home. He had to get home soon. 

But how? 

Draco was talking to him, dark chocolate eyes looking at him hopefully, a question lingering there in the depths. Lúcio swallowed nervously, fingers playing absently with the rope that still bound his wrists, “I’m sorry, can you repeat the question? I was lost in my thoughts.”

The reptilian fae smiled once more and asked, “Do you have a name? I can’t call you human forever.” Again there was that smile, soft and reassuring. It was almost enough to make Lúcio drop his guard. Almost enough to make the human say his full name, however, he remembered. He wasn’t supposed to be doing that. Wasn’t supposed to be giving away his full name because a name had power in the fae lands. 

“Lú, just call me Lú,” he replied hesitantly. Draco smiled again, why was this fae always smiling. It was both soothing and unnerving at the same time. The sharp teeth were really what threw off the human. He couldn’t understand why a creature who seemed just as enslaved as he was, could smile like nothing bothered him. Like Major’s disappearance last night into the cabin without giving the reptilian fae the time of day didn’t bother him.

Draco’s green skin wrinkled at the corners of his mouth when he smiled, the scales shifting there in his amusement, “Alright Lú, it’s time to get dressed and washed and start the work for the day,” the fae pat his knee gently, and then stood to his full height. Lúcio hated how they were so tall, making him feel infantile next to them. As he walked away, to a barrel of water, his tail, starting at the base of his lower back, swished along the ground behind him. 

Draco turned his head over his shoulder, “By the way, we don’t use real names to force you to do our will. That’s not how it works in this place.”

That remark made Lúcio feel better, but he was unsure what the intentions of the dragon fae were. Was it to make the human lower his guard more? Or was it truly the way of things on Major’s small farm of glowing botanicals? A gentle tug on his rope reminded him that Draco was intent on getting him to wash and be clean before no doubt getting dirty again working in the plants. 

With a sigh, Lúcio heaved himself to his feet and walked over to Draco, who was diligently scrubbing a cloth, an old rag, over his scales. He dunked it back into the barrel, wrung it out and then handed it over to Lúcio, who took the damp rag and passed it over his skin to remove the dirt of his travels. 

“Your skin is earthen colored, it suits you quite well,” the fae complimented, Lúcio couldn’t help the bashful warmth that bubbled beneath his face. It wasn’t often that someone said something positive about his skin. Most often it was referred to dirt or dust, but with Draco, it felt different. The word “earthen” felt more like a positive descriptor of his skin tone. It felt nice. 

“Thank you,” Lúcio said quietly, watching as Draco turned to the crop of plants behind them with a grin. The dragon fae rolled up his sleeves, folding them over and over until they rested just above his elbows. It seemed his whole body was that light spring green color with darker green accents. 

With another smile, the fae turned his face to Lúcio’s, “Let’s get to work.”

Lúcio supposed being on the small farm wouldn’t be too horrible for now. He still wanted to run away, but there was something about Draco’s smile and the way that he was being treated so far that made him feel less like he wanted to run away.

He wondered if it was truly alright.

To be friends with a fae creature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWWWWW Lúcio made a friend!

**Author's Note:**

> I like comments, do feel free to voice suggestions or theories (Even if you’re a guest, don’t heasitate to reach out)^ - ^


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